


Learning to Dance

by BeaRyan



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Dirty Dancing, F/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeaRyan/pseuds/BeaRyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's first time at a dance club results in PWP (porn without plot).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Dance

Miles opened the heavy, wooden door and the sound hit Charlie like a punch in the chest. The drum pounded out of sync with her heartbeat and the first breath of smoke burned her throat. From behind her she heard Jason say, “Aw hell yeah,” his usually hidden Philly accent sliding in to dominate the words and casting a layer of meaning over them that intrigued her. He smiled when he talked liked that, but he also edited himself, leaving out he parts of the stories he though she didn't want to hear, the parts about other women. She loved the things he did so well to her body, but she preferred not to think too hard on where he'd learned them. 

She felt Jason's hand slide around her waist under her jacket, and he pulled her tightly back against him. He leaned in, half-whispering half-yelling to be heard over the music, and asked, “Are you ready for this?” She wondered if he meant the bar or the bulge in his pants.

“What do you mean “this”?” she asked.

“The club. The disco. The dance hall.” He practically cackled with glee. He loved teasing her about her sheltered upbringing. She hadn't intentionally avoided these sorts of experiences; they just hadn't been available to her in the village. When she found an opportunity to do something she'd previously only read about she tended to dive in, and Jason had been her debauchery tour guide more than once. 

“That's dancing?” she asked, pointing to the tangled mass of sweating bodies in the corner. It looked like pornography, or what she assumed pornography looked like, as the crowd pulsed and ground along to music unlike anything she'd heard before. It was a far cry from sounds made by the two guitars and a trash can drum played for the harvest dance at home. 

“Let's dance,” he said. 

“I don't know how to dance to this,” she answered. 

“Then let's drink until you do.” 

He took her hand and threaded their way quickly through the crowd, somehow finding gaps between people when she saw only a crush of bodies, and moved them quickly towards the bar. He pulled her in close behind him, wrapping her arms around him as he leaned in to order. Charlie noted the public display, unusual for them, and wondered if he was doing it simply because it felt good, which it undeniably did, or if he was making some sort of statement to the crowd or her family. Jason's motivations were often a mystery to her.

When he turned back around he held four shot glasses. They each took one in each hand. 

“To the things we shouldn't do that we're going to do anyway,” he said, clinking his glass against hers with a wicked smile before gulping down the liquid and banging the glass down on the closest table. Charlie slammed hers too. It burned in her throat and nose as she swallowed it, but she drank it without complaint. She had decided she was along for this ride no matter where it took her. 

“To a life without regrets for things left undone,” he said, repeating the actions. Charlie drank this one too. It burned less, but her eyes still watered. She wondered what impact so much alcohol so quickly would have on her. She wasn't much of a drinker and the crush and surge of the club already had her feeling unsteady. 

He led her through the crowd, digging their way past the first layer of bodies on the dance floor so they were surrounded by limbs and torsos entwined in writhing pairs or more. They joined the movement, sweating, swaying, and thrusting together. Their hands roamed each other and their mouths gasped for air and from pleasure. Occasionally a hand reached out from a nearby knot of lustful flesh and tried to draw them into it with a gentle caress or a less subtle tug. They ignored the intrusions and let the music sync their rhythms. 

Charlie felt the alcohol working its way through her and stopped caring who could see them. She let her hands freely roam his body, publicly exploring the taut muscles and smooth skin she'd previously only claimed in private. The music throbbed within her, the hammer of the drums almost a heartbeat, reminding her of the rhythm Jason pounded out within her when they stole time alone together. 

She felt his hands cup her ass and he lifted her, spreading her legs around him in a lewd frontal piggyback in the middle of the dance floor. He pinned her to the wall and she twined her arms and legs around him, helping him support her weight as he pulsed against her in time to the music. Their kisses were rougher than usual, more animalian, making her feel bruised and swollen but also aching for more. 

“Not on the dance floor,” a voice boomed in her ear as a large, rough hand grasped her shoulder. The man was huge, bigger than Jason, and while his expression was vaguely amused he also seemed closed to debate. 

“Where?” Jason asked, looking the bouncer dead in the eye. The man seemed to consider the request but said nothing. 

“Help a brother out,” Charlie pleaded, eliciting snorts of laughter from both of them. She didn't care; it worked. He gestured vaguely towards a hall beside the stage where the band continued to set the beat of the primal grind of the crowd. 

Jason led the way down the hall, stopping in front of the sign marking the ladies' room. It had been crossed out and the word “Outside” was written below it. The door handle was missing and a hook and eye and a sliding latch held the door shut. He quickly undid both. 

The room looked rarely used and dirty. The toilet had been removed, probably long ago but the sink counter still remained. A mirror ran along the wall in front of and behind it, giving infinite repeating impressions of them. She looked over Jason's shoulder, into the mirror, and caught his eye in the reflection. It was a strange contact, one she hadn't felt in years, and the feeling of oddity combined with the disorientation of the alcohol briefly overwhelmed her, leaving her disconnected from the moment as she broke contact with his eyes and explored the room in its reflection. 

She was brought back to reality when she felt Jason's teeth against her nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and gave it a tug, trying to get him undressed, but he covered her hand with his to still her before biting her ear and whispering, “We're about to fuck fifteen feet away from 200 people, any of whom could walk in at any moment. You keep as much of your clothes on as possible.” 

Charlie froze at his words. Fuck. Sure what they did was fucking, but he'd never labeled it. This seemed obscene. Dangerous. Thrilling. 

He grabbed a handful of her hair at the base of her skull and turned her head so she had to look at him. It as a strangely forceful gesture for him. Her breath caught as she stared into his dark eyes. 

“No one will hurt you,” he swore. 

“You're pulling my hair,” she answered. 

“Tell me to stop.” 

Instead she said, “Fuck me.” 

Jason dropped to one knee and untied her right shoe before quickly unbuttoning her pants and shoving them down to her knees. “Just one leg out,” he said. 

“I thought we kept our clothes on.”

“You're too short for standing from behind and the counter isn't deep enough for you to lay on it. It's sitting on the edge of the sink or down on the floor.” 

She took a quick glance at the floor before deciding that one pants leg off was preferable to on all fours on the unidentifiable filth beneath their feet. Once she was exposed, he lifted her on to the edge of the counter between the sinks, casually running his thumb across her sensitized folds before unbuttoning his own pants. 

“Watch the door,” he ordered. He entered her fully in a single stroke, burying himself to the hilt and eliciting a startled gasp from Charlie. 

“No?” he asked. 

“Fuck me, Jason,” she answered. 

He grabbed her hips to hold her steady and pounded into her in time to the music drifting in from the dance floor. The long, full strokes left her gasping at their beginning and end. She leaned back, resting her head against the mirror and felt the vibrating pulse of the beat throughout her body. 

She looked at Jason's face, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut, and knew he was close. This was crazy, even for them, and while the alcohol had numbed her to some of the sensations he seemed to be in the full grasp of the moment. She suspected if she said “Fuck me” again he'd break and she'd get to feel the incredible pulse and swell of him coming inside her. That would push her over the edge into her own orgasm, it always did, but it wasn't the right time of the month to take that chance. She'd have to find another way to crest the mountain. 

Jason stilled inside her and grabbed the front of her tank top, dragging her forward to him for a hard kiss that ended with him biting her lips. 

“Focus,” he ordered. 

“Focus on what,” she teased. She wasn't sure what she needed but she knew she needed something more. Knew that two shots so quickly had been just a little too much as she wasn't as close to her end as he was to his. 

He sucked her index and forefingers quickly, clearly fighting with himself while trying to arouse her, and slid her hand between them. Her fingers straddled his cock as he began sliding it in and out again. 

“On that,” he said, his voice raspy. 

Her fingers slid upward, to her own pleasure center, and she rubbed along in time to his thrusts, increasing the sensation but not able to finish. She needed something to crystallize the moment. 

A sound at the door caught her attention and she looked up to see the couple who had quietly entered and were now watching them. The man stood behind the woman, one hand on her breast and one down her pants, as she leaned her head back against him. The woman rolled her head forward and locked eyes with Charlie, the decadent connection finally triggering the orgasm that had refused to come. Charlie didn't bother to hold back her cries, knowing that the sound of the band would cover it and eager to scream with release now that she finally had a moment when she could without bringing Miles and her mother running to investigate. She could have sworn she heard applause and felt the vibration like thunder in her body. 

Jason felt the first spasm of her around him and tore away from her, barely escaping before erupting. His hands clenched her hips as he ground against her, no longer as close as either of them wanted to be but closer than was entirely safe. 

Jason saw the other couple in the mirror and Charlie saw his guard come up, ready to fight or kill if necessary. The girl spoke first. “Don't hurry out on our account. That was hot as hell.” 

“We're done here,” Jason said, never taking his eyes off them in the mirror as he fastened his pants. Charlie quickly slipped her pants leg and shoe back on, hastily swiping at the mess with the rag she'd taken to carrying in her pocket. 

They walked back down the hall toward the dance floor as a pianist and a singer took the stage from the band. The new song was slower, sweet and full of longing and promises. Charlie rested her head against Jason's chest and listened to his heartbeat slow back down to normal as she snuggled into his arms. She swayed to the beat of a song she'd never heard before and swore to never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> I do appreciate kudos, but comments let me know what you liked and what you'd like to see more of. Anonymous comments are on.


End file.
